Wrong Number
by KiwiKitty42
Summary: Sakura's life hasn't been the easiest since her mother died, and her abuse isn't the only thing she's hiding from the world. Maybe her life isn't the best, but it was familiar, until a call comes that changes her life. But is it really for the better?
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first full fanfic! Hope y'all like it!!! And u c that lil purple button at the bottom? Don't forget to push it and write!!! I'm not exactly sure how long this story's going to be, but stay with me people! Don't forget I've got school, too!! I don't really have much else to say . . . I don't even think anyone is reading this . . . hehe ; )

  


Disclaimer: If I owned CCS, would I really be writing a _fan_fic? But in case anyone doesn't get it – I don't own CCS. Don't sue me. 

  


Wrong number– Ch 1

"_I wake up in the morning,_

_ Put on my face._

_ The one that's gonna get me,_

_ Through another day._

_ Doesn't really matter,_

_ How I feel inside. _

_ Life is like a game sometimes . . ."_

  


Beep! Beep!

  


I groaned, rolled over, and shut my clock off. I didn't want to risk waking anyone up. Slowly, I eased off of my cot, trying not to hurt myself any more than needed. I cursed when I saw the gash that ran from my right shoulder to my elbow. I figured I was wearing another long-sleeved shirt. The night before had been especially hard. Sure there had been guests in the beginning, but that just meant that they were going to wait until they left before making me start my work, which ended up being harder than usual because of the mess all the drunk people had left. Meaning, of course, that I was, yet again, going to have to go to school after only five hours of sleep.

  


When I was done dressing, I surveyed myself in the mirror. Baggy black sweatshirt, baggy blue jeans. Hair down, hiding my neck. Nothing to draw attention to me, nothing that would get the only people keeping my brother alive in trouble. I was set.

I slipped quietly into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was nothing there that would feed three people. If I stretched it, it might barely feed two. I was going to go hungry. Again. I didn't care, though. I was finding it harder and harder to keep food down long anyway. I made them breakfast and was setting it on the table when I heard them stirring in their room. Long ago, I would have frozen in terror, but I have been through enough to know that the best thing to do is hurry up and get out of there as fast as possible, which I did. I made sure to grab the grocery list and money on my on the way out. 

  


At least, what hadn't been spent on other "necessities".

  


I had to pull my hood up against the wind when I got outside. It was October and I was freezing. Then again, I had at least three miles to walk alone; I would warm up. I always did.

As always, when I caught sight of the school, I put a lazy smile on my face, knowing that I didn't have to worry about whether people would believe that my mask was really me. They always did.

  


"Hey Sakura!" My best friend, Tomoyo, bounded towards me, her dark hair rippling behind her. I have no idea how we became friends, but friends we are. Her violet eyes always seem to be sparkling with some hidden amusement, and her laugh is always ready, ready to make someone's day just a little brighter. She cares about what she wears, what she looks like.

  
  


I suppose I was like that once, but that's long gone. Now my green eyes are dull, unless I'm faking it, and my once silky auburn hair is just a mop of brown, but I don't care. As long as no one asks questions, I'm happy. I know how to act like everyone else, and everyone believes me. Sometimes, though, I wish that someone out there would realize that I'm just acting. That someone will take the time to see if I'm all right. 

But who am I kidding? No one cares about me.

  


"How do you have so much energy in the morning?" I grumbled. I pretend that I'm not a morning person, it makes things easier when people know that I can be a crab in the morning. They stay away long enough for me to collect myself, then I can pretend to care about whatever they want for the rest of the day. That's just how it is.

  


She just rolled her eyes at me and started chatting away about God knows what. We walked into class together, and headed for our seats in the back. I immediately slumped into my chair, aware that my friends were trying to get my attention.

  


"If you really need to talk to me, you could get up and come to me," I suggested, looking up. I let a twinkle shine in my eye to let them know I wasn't really mad at them and I wouldn't try to kill them if they came closer. It was okay to let them come and ask questions. They hardly ever asked about my injuries, not since that day I'd had a brainstorm and told everyone that I frequently got into fights with various people that, conveniently (for me) did not go to our school. The only down side is that I accidently let it slip that I was fighting for a reason, and everyone decided that I was actually a hero that went around protecting people from the dangerous thugs in our town. Yeah, right.

  


First of all, there would have to be actual muggers in our town. But it makes them happy, so they leave me alone, and that makes me happy. It all works out.

  


So every day I sit there and pretend I'm pretending to scowl, so everyone can think I'm hiding behind it when they talk to me. But this only works in the morning. After lunch I am expected to actually socialize with people. So I pretend I'm having a good time with everyone, and sometimes, just for kicks, I'll start pretending to I'm pretending to feel something and doing a bad job of hiding it, because I'm really feeling something else, which is, of course, fake. I usually feeling either tired, or bored, never anything more.

  


Confusing, isn't it? You should try it. You see, I have this secret that no one can find out about. It's something that could destroy me. If some one found out, I would be ruined, and that's the one thing I am afraid of. 

  


I know it's irrational. I would See it if someone found out. Wouldn't I?

  


"Sakura!" one of my friends (I should say, one of Tomoyo's friends) squealed when she reached my desk. Chiharu has never been one for subtleness. "Did you hear? There's been another kidnaping! And in the city right next to us!"

  


"Oh, don't scare her like that." Rika came up from behind and adjusted her book bag. "Nobody needs to hear something like that in the morning." I grunted my contribution to the conversation, then just sat back and allowed them to gossip their thoughts about the whole kidnaping business. 

  


Quite frankly, I didn't care. Not that I didn't feel bad for the poor girls (who were probably dead by now, or worse), I really was worried, but I was simply too exhausted to do anything but look like I was half-dead. Which was how I felt.

  


Unfortunately, our teacher came in at that moment, and I was forced to sit up and look like I was paying attention.

  


I won't bore you with the details of class. It doesn't really matter- it's not like I ever listen or anything. Lunch was equally unimportant, the most exciting event was when Tomoyo tried to force me to eat something, just like everyday. I took the apple she offered just to shut her up. What really matters is what happened in P.E.

  


I was wearing the uniform sweats and my sweatshirt to make sure no one saw anything they shouldn't. We were playing dodge ball (which, in my opinion, is the stupidest game ever) when I was suddenly hit by one of those damn balls. As luck would have it, it had been thrown by a guy, and everyone knows how seriously they take the stupid game. Normally I would only end up with a red spot that would eventually go away, but my fabulous luck decided to come in and have the ball hit me in exactly the same place I had landed on when my so-called father had thrown me against our coffee table. The pain was making things go hazy, but I'm used to hiding pain from everyone else. I limped over to where the people that had gotten 'out' went. I never made it. No one noticed what was wrong with me, or maybe no one cared, but all I know is that one minute I was struggling to get to the other side of the field, and the next, the ground was rushing towards me at an alarming rate. I had time for one last conscious thought before I blacked out,

  


"I better not get any grass stains . . ."

  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  


". . .don't know what happened . . ."

  


" . . .found just lying there . . ."

  


I knew those voices, but who were they? I found that I didn't really care. I was lying on something very soft and my leg no longer hurt. In fact, I could no longer feel it there. Why should I care?

  


" . . .tried calling her parents . . ." 

  


_That_ got my attention. My parents were dead, who were they talking about?

  


"Who?" 

  


"Oh! Matsuki-san! You're awake! Good." Someone I recognized as the school nurse began bustling about, getting ice for my leg, and . . . a cookie? "Now, don't worry, we're getting you in touch with your parents as soon as we can." It suddenly dawned on me who they were talking about.

  


"NO!" I burst out, startling her, "I-I mean, I don't want to bother them. I can just go back to class." I smiled encouragingly, gritting my teeth against the pain that suddenly decided to make an appearance.

  


"Oh," she exclaimed, "but I'm sure they would want to know that we're going to have to take you to the hospital." Seeing my face, and completely misinterpreting it, she quickly added, "Don't worry, we'll explain everything later. You need to rest."

  


I could only stare dumbfounded at her. She was giving me a cookie, my leg felt like it was on fire, my "parents" were going to kill me when they found out that I had to go to the hospital, and she expected me lie back down and sleep?!?! It all seemed ridiculously funny, and I felt the strangest urge to burst out laughing. What was I going to say to the doctors? There was no way they would miss all my scars. I was pretty sure I had some minor fractures somewhere, too. Which reminded me. . .

  


What had happened to my leg, anyway?

  


I looked down. And nearly fainted again at what I saw. Somehow, when the ball hit my leg, it had opened a wound. Where I had been hit, in the thigh, my pant leg had been rolled up and many layers of gauze were wrapped around it. Already I could see traces of blood creeping their way through it all, but that wasn't the horrible part. My leg was bent in a way I was pretty sure wasn't healthy, considering the fact that bones aren't supposed to bend, and it was my femur that seemed to have gained some sort of a horrible new joint. My ankle was so swollen that it was roughly the size of my thigh. The thigh that was all bent out of shape.

  


So that's why it hurt so much.

  


As I was staring down at my disfigured leg, I reflected on what might have happened to me, had I not already been so close to death when that ball hit me. I was alone, I was comfortable, and I was probably brimming with pain killers. It was as good a time as any to take a very unwanted stroll down memory lane. This time, I didn't even need any water. 

  


*~ 13 years ago*~

It was summer time, and the bright sun shone through the windows, warming everything it touched. It seemed like such a happy day, but it wasn't for one family. On a quiet street in Akita, Japan, a child was crying, her mother dying. The women, Nadeshiko was her name, was lying on her bed, her dark grey hair tumbling over the pillow. Her face was pale, her once-green eyes hidden behind her closed lids. 

It was getting harder and harder for her to breathe, but she knew she must. It wouldn't do for her to die with only her three year old daughter in the house. Someone had to be there, so she could explain to them what Sakura had to do. What she had done. 

But no one was there. 

She was fading fast and she knew it, and in a desperate attempt to make sure that her child didn't have to go through what she did, she called Sakura to her side.

Immediately, a pair of inquisitive green eyes peered over the side of the bed, asking if anything was wrong.

" 'Kura, I want you . . . to . . . listen." Nadeshiko knew she could not waste any time. "Someday . . . people–" A shot rang out. She held her breath, fearing the worst. She looked down, expecting to see her daughter lying dead, but to her surprise, it had been she that the bullet had hit. 

Sakura's eyes were wide at the sight of the flow of crimson coming from her mother's arm. Even more shocking was Nadeshiko's reaction.

She laughed.

"Come on." Suddenly, her voice was strong, fueled by her disgust. "I know you can do better than that. I thought I'd taught you better."

Looking around, three-year old Sakura was confused. No one was in the room. Who was she talking to?

Something inside of her tried to answer, but she pushed it away. At that moment, her mother was her top priority. There would be plenty of time later to figure it out. There would be people who could answer her questions. 

She just had to make sure Nadeshiko Kinomoto would live.

She reached for her mother's hand, but something held her back. It seemed tangible, but nothing was there. She tried again. This time she was thrown against the wall. It seemed that whoever was keeping her away really meant it.

In the glass of water on her mother's bedside table, she saw something that horrified and fascinated her. 

A head. He was handsome, terrifyingly so. He seemed so familiar . . . but she could not dwell upon it. Seeing him made her more afraid than she had ever been in her short life. She did the only thing she could do. With sudden determination, she ran forward, kissed her lifeless mother's forehead, and ran out of the room. When she passed the dresser, she hesitated, then snatched the pendant that Nadeshiko so cherished. She knew that man wanted it, and she knew he mustn't get it. 

No matter what.

Clutching it in her tiny hand, she ran, now hearing maniacal laughter everywhere, mocking her. She burst out her front door, and sprinted as swiftly as she could down the street, which was pretty fast, considering her age.

Everywhere she turned, there was water. Children running through the sprinklers. Men washing their cars. Women watering their gardens. She longed to be laughing with them, but every time she glanced at them, she saw horrible things. 

Images that would scar her for life. 

She saw things that had happened so long ago that even the oldest of the oldest would not be able to recall even stories of the battles that she witnessed. They were so terrible that she nearly lost her footing many times, but the feeling that someone was after her pushed her on.

She knew not how long she ran, nor how far, all she knew was that she stumbled into the front yard of a grand estate, where she promptly collapsed, finally feeling safe.

*~*~*~*~

Four year old Sakura crying into her pillow because she still missed her family, even though she had been at the orphanage for many months. 

*~*~*~*~

Five year old Sakura miserably bent over a toilet because that night's dinner had been especially bad and she couldn't stop throwing up.

*~*~*~*~

Six year old Sakura attempting to clean her many wounds with unsanitary water and cheap soap.

*~*~*~*~

Seven year old Sakura huddling in a broom closet, praying the older kids wouldn't find her there and begin their "fun".

*~*~*~*~

Eight year old Sakura scrubbing the floors on her knees with no protection from the strong detergent or the unforgiving floors.

*~*~*~*~

Nine year old Sakura learning that to survive is to defend yourself, maybe even to fight back.

*~*~*~*~

Ten year old Sakura trying to educate herself with the forbidden school books that had been smuggled in by a former "resident".

*~*~*~*~

Eleven year old Sakura defending the helpless children living beside her in that hell.

*~*~*~*~

Twelve year old Sakura lay on her bed, staring up at the crumbling ceiling, thinking about how much she hated the orphanage. Her "guardian", the food, the work, the older, bigger bullies, the building, the beds, everything. But she never cried. She didn't know how to cry anymore.

Her eyes softened at the thought of some of the younger children she had befriended to keep them out of harm's way. 

Being their friend kept the bullies away from them, even if they came after her more. Knowing who the children were made it easier to take the Belt for them.

Sighing, she thought of the short months she had spent at the estate she had stumbled blindly into. The Hiiragizawa's had been kind, but they'd had a child of their own, and they had busy lives. They understood her in a way that was unfamiliar, but comforting. Most of their advice confused her, but she stored everything away in the depths her heart, knowing they never said anything without purpose.

Unfortunately, something had called them away to England and, because they'd never legally adopted her (when she'd asked why, they'd said that it wasn't meant to be), they were forced to leave her in an orphanage. Not just any orphanage, though. They had taken forever choosing the "right" one.

They hadn't informed her of this, though. She had seen it. Three times. Before it happened, while it happened, and after it had happened. She had refused to believe it until she was standing on the doorstep of her new "home". 

At first, she had been hurt, but understood the reason, young as she was. But once the beatings started, once she was forced to work to earn her keep, she had hated them with a passion she didn't know she had. 

After a while, she had forgiven them, remembering their kindness. One thing she still didn't understand, though, was why they had insisted on such a horrible orphanage. Deep down, she resented their lack of explanation, the absence of anything that proved they cared how she was doing.

And now she was going to be adopted. She had lit the fire that night, had seen them, had felt who they were. There was no avoiding it. She was leaving one hell for another, she suspected.

Getting up, she tip-toed to each of the beds in her wing, softly kissing "her" children on their foreheads, saying a soft good bye to each of them.

*~*~*~*~

Thirteen year old Sakura stared at the computer screen in shock. She knew it was forbidden to be on it, but she couldn't move. Her brother and father had- with a cry, she was thrown from her seat against the wall. She closed her eyes as the yelling started up again, the fist came down repeatedly, the foot kicked once more.

*~*~*~*~

Fourteen year old Sakura working in the garden, doing work that an older, stronger person should do. But she needed the money. Who knew what would happen to Touya if she stopped, she didn't know what would happen if she stopped earning her keep.

"Sakura!" Tomoyo stopped in front of her house, staring at her incredulously. "What are you doing?" For a second, she thought of telling her the truth, but she saw her "mother" glowering at her from the window. 

Putting on a bright smile, she answered as cheerfully as she could, "Oh, I just felt like getting some fresh air and exercise. I figured that I might as well help my parents out while I was at it."

*~*~*~*~

Fifteen year old Sakura lay on the couch, staring at the fire. In it she saw, she felt, unbearable pain. The pain of betrayal. But she didn't need the fire to know that. Everyone she ever trusted had left her. 

She gave up on whatever thoughts of love she'd ever had.

*~*~*~*~

I lay on the cot of my school's infirmary, shivering at the memories that pounded me ruthlessly. They were things I'd rather forget, but can't, thanks to my "gift". Unconsciously, I fingered the pendant I always wear. Wishing the world away, I closed my eyes, and a lone tear escaped, despite my efforts to banish them. 

A/N: So? What d'ya think? Are you confused? I hope not. In case you are, here's basically what happened:

Sakura's mom was killed by a "mysterious force" ( can't tell what!), and she runs away from it. She stumbles upon the Hiiragizawa home, and they take her in (can't tell why!). They leave her at an orphanage where she is forced to work and is bullied. She isn't supposed to learn anything, but she finds a way. She gets adopted by people that force her to work and beat her. They pay her, but only a little bit. 

I hope no one was confused by my change in POV, I thought it would be better if flashbacks were from a third person angle. Oh, and the part of the song at the beginning was from "Naked", by Avril Lavigne (I don't own that, either). Hope that helped! REVIEW!!!!!!! And please, no flames!


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2- Wrong number

  


_ "Lost in the darkness of a land_

_ Where all the hope that's offered is_

_ Memories of being taken by the hand_

_ And we are led into the sun_

_ But I don't have a hold on what's real_

_ Though we can only try_

_ What is there to give or believe . . ."_

  


The ride to the hospital was uneventful. I didn't even get the sirens, I'm so unimportant. They did say they had the lights flashing, but really. I could have died from blood loss. I'm serious, it had been nearly an hour, and my poor leg was still dripping blood. I have no idea why the people took so long getting me; maybe they know that my 'parents' aren't the type to sue people for mistreating me. 

In fact, I'm pretty sure they reward them for it.

  


I don't know what was wrong with the stupid hospital, but it took them forever to get someone that had time to look at my leg. Then he said it was beyond his knowledge, and he had to go get someone else. Of course, my 'parents' decided to show up then, making this big show of being worried. That is, until they realized that the hospital wasn't doing anything to take care of me, and they got angry.

  
  


Keep your shirt on, they weren't angry that no one was attending to me, they were upset that time had been taken away from their oh-so-important lives to see me, when my injury wasn't serious enough to get any attention. They decided to take matters into their own hands, and they stomped off to find a doctor so they could get out of there as fast as they could.

  


That left me alone in my room. Finally. I reached over to my backpack to grab the cell phone the Tomoyo had given me. Of course, no one knows about it except for me and her. Before I could grab it, though, it started ringing. 

  


Who was calling me? Tomoyo would know better than to call, and no one else knows my number.

  


"Hello?" I wonder if people can hear when someone else is frowning?

  


"Who is this?" a deep voice asked, obviously confused.

  


"You called me." I didn't even know the guy and he was already bugging me. "You tell me."

  


"Is Meiling there?" Oh, it was a wrong number. That certainly explained a lot.

  


"I'm sorry, you must have dialed the wrong number." With that, I hung up. There was no point in continuing to use up the minutes that Tomoyo generously paid for.

  


I was about to punch in some numbers when I heard, no, sensed, someone coming down the corridor. Was someone against me making one stupid call?!?!?! I hastily hid it away, just in case.

  


"Matsuki-san, I hear you have been having some problems with your leg." A doctor walked in just then, looking at his clipboard. Even though he looked kind of young, he seemed capable enough. That is, until he got within a foot of my bed. His blue eyes slid out of focus for a second, before he blinked and said in a strange voice,

  


"It doesn't seem that serious, I don't know why they told me come down here." What was going on? Thoroughly confused, I glared at him, daring him to step out of the room. 

  


Then something strange happened.

  


His face got kind of twisted, like he was struggling with something, then his faced cleared and he looked perfectly normal. 

  


"Now, would you mind telling me where it hurts?" He continued as though nothing had happened. Was I losing it?

  


Probably.

  


"My ear." My words were dripping with sarcasm as I looked at him in disdain. "Where do you think?!"

  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

  


When I got home the next day, it was like walking into a war zone. I knew I was in for it this time. As I had expected, the doctor had noticed my many wounds, and had obviously wondered where I had acquired so many scars. 

  


Unfortunately, he did not buy the whole 'gang fighting' scenario. Probably because he knew there were no gang bangers in our town.

  


Surprisingly, he did not question me too much when I stuck to my story, he just gave me this really weird, knowing, comforting smile. 

  


My "parents" had had to pretend they actually cared about me, and they were really mad. Especially because their favorite punching bag had not been at their disposal for the entire time. 

  


Who would just happen to be me, by the way.

  


It was dinner time, and I sighed. Everyone always complains about hospital food, but I was starting to miss it. At least I actually got to eat it.

  


"Sakura! Come here young lady!" My "mother" yelled from the kitchen, where she was waiting. 

Now the fun begins.

  


Hobbling on my crutches, I strode into the kitchen with as much dignity and defiance I could muster. I was in for a beating any way, why bother trying to pacify her?

  


"What were you thinking?" My "mother", Kiko, started pacing in front of me, her voice deathly low. I wasn't scared though; I have long ago forsaken such an emotion. After all, they liked it when I was scared, why give them the pleasure?

  


"I suppose you were being your usual klutzy self," she continued. "How many times have I tried to tell you? You- must- not- disgrace- me!" She punctuated each of her last word by inflicting some sort of bodily harm on me. Use your imagination. Just think fist, foot, and palm. 

  


"Now everyone is going to think I haven't taught you anything!" I briefly considered saying that she hadn't, but I knew it wasn't smart. This was just the beginning. When my "father" got home was when the fun would start.

  


"SAKURA!!!!!!!!!!!" Speak of the devil. "Do you know how much you cost us?!" Apparently a lot, judging by the chair he sent my way. I, of course, was unable to jump out of the way, the stupid cast was so heavy, so I had to take it.

Let me tell you, after that, my butt and the ground got acquainted really fast, if you know what I mean.

  


"Get up!" Genjo, my "father", snarled, pulling me up. I really don't know why he bothers. After all, I just end up on the ground anyway.

"You are going to work-" SLAP "for it, do you hear?!" shake "Answer me wench!" KICK. I was on the ground yet again, and this time I stood up on my own, slowly, yes, but on my own. 

  


"How dare you!" Kiko screeched, enraged. "I didn't give you permission to stand in my presence!" I earned another punch for that. One that sent me spinning into the table. 

  


The rest of the hour was a little fuzzy after that. 

  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  


I don't know how, but by some miracle, I made it upstairs and into my room. Or the closet they called my room, anyway. I collapsed onto my cot when I got there, unable to imagine what kind of horrors awaited me for my "chores". 

  


You see, I work for them in return for money, so I can support my brother. When I was thirteen, I unwittingly discovered the fate of my biological father and brother. My father was killed, no one knows who did it, but my brother was still alive. Barely. He'd had some sort of a mental breakdown, which somehow caused another disease to enter his body, I'd found. I hadn't had time to read the particulars, but I knew enough. And there was no way I was going to let my only family die without a fight.

Even though I knew how much trouble I would get in, I spent the next month trying to convince them to let me work for them in return for money. They were against it, at first, because they didn't want me to have any money. But when I finally threatened to expose them, they gave in.

  


So we have a deal; I don't disgrace them in any way, and they pay me two dollars a day for any type of labor they can think of. Not much, I know, but sending fifty-five dollars a month to my brother is worth it. I keep five dollars so I can occasionally buy something that'll keep me alive just a little while longer. 

  


Touya is the only reason I keep living this life, the only reason I keep living at all. 

  


The ringing of my cell phone broke into my thoughts, scaring the life out of me.

  


"Tomoyo! What are you doing?! You know better than to call me-" I started screaming into the phone before someone interrupted me. 

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not Tomoyo." It was the guy from earlier. "Actually, I'm looking for- wait, did you say-" I was really confused with his sudden change of subject, but before I had time to figure it out, someone started pounding on my door.

  


Shit.

  


"Sakura! Who are you talking to in there?!" Genjo yelled through the door. 

  


"No one!" I yelled back, hoping he just leave me alone. 

  


BAM. He finally broke down my door, the thing barely missing me as it crashed to the floor. 

"Where did you get that?" His voice was deathly low, sending shivers up my spine. I had forgotten to put the phone out of sight.

  


"It's one of my friends'. She forgot it, so I'm keeping it safe for her," I lied, raising my chin in defiance. That small act earned me a kick in the stomach, one that knocked the wind out of me, along with my phone.

  


I felt something inside of me snap. Something was different. I didn't know what it was, but I liked it. I felt power that I'd never known, and suddenly. . . 

  


I was angry. And I wanted to get him back. I looked up at him, my eyes burning with every ounce of hatred I possessed. For a moment, he seemed taken aback, but it was quickly replaced by an anger to rival my own. Slowly, I stood up, never breaking eye contact.

  


"What do you think you're doing?!" he bellowed when he realized I was not backing down. I could smell the liquor on his breath.

  


"Whatever I want!" I screamed, shoving him. It was the first blow I had ever struck him, and it felt good. For that I was slapped again, and so our fight began. Until it was crushed by my body being thrown on top of it, I forgot all about the phone and the mysterious caller.

  


I don't know how long it was; it could have been five minutes, it could have been five hours, but by the time I was almost dead, what with having to deal with the cast my previous injuries, and he was starting to purple nicely, we could hear sirens in the distance.

  
  


Neither of us paid attention, though. I was trying to recover from being thrown down the stairs, but failing miserably. I was so mad at myself. I should have been able to handle myself. After all, for the past few years, I had been secretly receiving lessons in self-defense. I should have done better than I had, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill Kiko, wherever she was, but I couldn't. No matter how much I hated them, I couldn't hurt them. It had nothing to do with who they were; I simply cannot hurt anyone, whether I want to or not. It's just a part of who I am.

  


I was lamenting this, sprawled at the base of our stairs, while wondering vaguely where Genjo was. Shockingly, I found that I was starting not to care. Everything was starting to get fuzzy again, and those stupid sirens just kept getting louder. 

  


Why wouldn't they shut up? They really weren't helping the headache that was threatening to overwhelm me. Vaguely I wondered where they could be headed, until they stopped. The lights were flashing through the living room window, too. I hoped my neighbors were okay.

  


Things were really starting to get weird, and I was feeling something warm trickle from me in many places, but I didn't really care. All my energy was spent wishing the pounding in my head (or was it on the door?) would stop and the voices yelling would shut up. No such luck. Oh well. I was actually starting to get kind of numb, and I think I was starting to black out. 

  


The last thing I saw was a pair of worried eyes looming above me. 

  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  


Groggily, I cracked open my right eye, just to make sure Kiko or Genji wasn't there, but to my surprise, I wasn't in my house. In fact, I had no clue where I was. Instantly I was alert, and my eyes snapped open as I sat up straight, an action I instantly regretted. The room started spinning and I flopped back down and tried to figure out where I was.

  


The cream walls and crown molding suggested somewhere of prestige (A/N: fyi, crown molding is the fancy trim they put on some walls), as did the rosewood canopy bed I was in. But the disturbing thing was, the queen bed was the only thing in there, besides a metal folding chair sitting beside me. The creepy thing was, the sheets on my bed weren't messed up at all. Usually I wake up and my blanket if half on the floor, but not his time. I felt as though I were a doll that had been placed there especially for viewing.

  


" . . . don't know . . . could be . . ."

  


Soft murmurs outside the door brought me back, and because I was curious, I rolled out of the beige sheets as softly as I could. Once accomplished, I crawled to the wall and used it for support as I slithered my way into standing position. Leaning against it, I slid over to the closed door to better hear what was being said.

  


" . . . finally found . . . I hope." I frowned. I still couldn't hear, but I didn't like the feeling I was getting in my gut. And why did the voices sound so familiar? 

  
  


"I'll go check on her." Belatedly I realized they were talking about me, but there was no way I was going to be able to make it to my bed.

  


The door flew open, concealing my behind it, and in breezed . . . Tomoyo?

  


What was going on?

  


When she saw my empty bed, she freaked.

  


"Eriol!" she shrieked, "She's gone!" I winced. I'd had no idea she could hit such a high pitch. And who was Eriol?

  


My answer was soon answered when the doctor that had treated me came rushing in.

  


"What? How could they-" he stopped, and blinked. A smile spread to his lips and he slowly pivoted to face me behind the door.

  


"Don't worry, she's right here." He walked over and pulled the door away. Seeing no way out, I leaned back casually and kept my face as blank as possible. When I was finally revealed, I said the first thing that popped into my mind.

  


"Where's the bathroom?"

  


So many emotions flitted across their faces at that moment, I started to think I was losing it. Confusion. Relief. Uncertainty. Guilt. And so much more.

  


"Down the hall, to the right. Third door on your left," Tomoyo finally answered, her face that of a concerned friend. "Do you need help?" My first impulse was to say no, but the look in her eyes- something I couldn't quite put my finger on- but I just couldn't turn her down.

  


"Sure." I forced a passable chuckle. "I guess I need it, huh?" Laughing, she offered her support, obviously relieved I could laugh. If only she knew.

  


Usually, my way of dealing with something is to ignore it, but so many questions were swimming around in my head it was making me dizzy. I could tell Tomoyo was a little uncomfortable, so I tried to ease up the strain a little by asking a few light questions.

  


"Where am I, anyway?" I looked around at the elaborate paintings hanging on the walls and the stiff-looking chairs set under them and her answer me sense.

  


"My house," she answered, then apparently decided that she needed to keep speaking. "Actually, it's my family's mountain house. We only come here . . ." Seeing that she was going to be ranting for a while, I tuned her out.

  


At least she was feeling better.

  
  


All I could do was think about what had happened that night. I wasn't even sure, exactly . . . who knew a walk to the bathroom could take so long? The paintings hanging on the wall looked extremely expensive, I noticed. I wondered how Tomoyo knew Eriol. 

  


My head was really starting to hurt by the time we got there (finally), and it was all I could to keep myself from throwing myself at the counter for support. I straightened and flashed a quick smile at her.

  


"Thanks!" I chirped. "If I need help back, I'll call you, okay?" She seemed hesitant, and for a minute, I was worried that she'd wait outside the bathroom for me, but she eventually turned and walked away.

  


I breathed a sigh of relief. I actually had no intention of using the toilet. Hobbling over to the sink, I stopped it up and began filling it with water. Not enough to over flow, just enough to be able to See in it. Usually I can't just call up images, they have to come to me, but I wanted to know had happened the night before so badly I figured it was worth a try.

  


After a moment I shut off the flow and let the water still itself. I felt something nag at the back of my mind, like there was something I should have figured out already. The water was showing me nothing. Frustrated, I slapped the surface of the water, and to my surprise, it did not splash everywhere. Not that I wanted it to. Instead, the droplets swirled together and came together in a slowly rotating orb above my extended palm. Horrified, I could do nothing as I witnessed an event I had seen many, many times. But this time, I didn't just See it in the water, not even in my Mind's Eye. Not only did I know my mother's pain, I felt it. I was there, standing beside the bed of my mother as she drew her last breath. I was there when that laugh, the laugh that never failed to haunt my nightmares, echoed throughout the room.

  


I was there . . . but I wasn't. I was like a ghost, even I could see through myself. I twas really weird.

Living through that experience once had been enough. Seeing it nearly every night was enough. Watching it on the surface of water was enough. But being there? Standing there and unable to move because the shock had paralyzed me? That was too much.

  


With a cry, I tired to swipe it away, but instead I sent it spinning at the mirror. Breathing heavily, I watched the droplets trickle down the face of the mirror, distorting my image. In every drop I could see echoes of it. Everywhere I turned, it was there, trying to get me, trying to pull me down.

  


Chest heaving, I stumbled back. I forgot about the trash can behind me. I forgot everything expect my need to run. I had to get away. If I stayed where I was, I would go insane. But there was no where to go. No where to hide. 

  


Tripping over the wastebasket, I cried out as I twisted around, attempting to avoid breaking my other leg. All I wanted was to get out of there, out of that cold, unforgiving bathroom . . . and I was. One second I was stumbling against the wastebasket, and the next, I was being thrown against the wall opposite the bathroom door. 

  


On the outside.

  


I nearing hysteria at this point, unable to comprehend what was going on. I tried to get up to get to the room I had first awoken in. Maybe Tomoyo or that doctor would have answers. Why I thought that, I don't know. They didn't even know about the powers I knew about.

  


Right?

  


In any case, once again I was being propelled through the hallway. This time, I could see the walls, the paintings, the chairs rushing past me. I finally stopped when I was thrown harshly against the bed I had only moments before vacated. Only Tomoyo was in the room when I . . . arrived.

  


Upon seeing me draped across the side of the bed, her eyes opened wide and all she could do was blink. For once, I allowed her to see inside of me. The absolute terror I felt must have been plain across my face and worry filled her eyes. For a second, I had an incredible sense of deja vu when I saw her face, and I was off again.

  


This time I could hardly see what I was passing as I spun through . . . wherever I was. I jerked to a stop across the street from the house I've lived in since I was twelve. Imagine my shock when I saw myself, at fourteen, handling equipment nearly half my size when Tomoyo walked up, also fourteen. I watched the scene with horror; I was witnessing the day I confined myself to my adopted parents' laws, the day I started an act that lasted two years.

  


I couldn't take it anymore, I had to get away. My heart cried out for home, but I didn't have one. I hadn't had one for thirteen years.

  


I didn't know where I was going. All I knew was that I was running away from there as fast as I could, wishing someone could explain what was going on to me. The next thing I knew, I was off spinning again, spinning so fast I should have been nauseates, but I wasn't. I felt suspended in time; maybe it was everything else that was whirling.

  


This time I stopped in the same place I had visited in the water globe. Tears streamed down my face when my mother's shot began replaying itself, over and over. Stretching my out my hand, I reached to brush her cheek, but couldn't. I passed right through her. Biting my lip, I turned away, and noticed something I had never seen before. 

  


A ghost of a man, standing there, a gun in his hand. The gun that killed my mother. With a yell, I lunged. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I wanted to make the man responsible for her death suffer. 

  


And the world started spinning again. There was nothing I could do, even though, this time, I struggled. I had no clue where I was going, no idea where I was when I finally stopped. This time it wasn't for as long, though. Almost immediately, I was sent spinning through time.

  


I had lost control. 

  


And there was nothing I could do.

  


A/N: How was that? I tried my hardest to make it good. I'm not sure if I succeeded, but whatever. The song at the top was from 'Lost' by Sarah McLachlan (don't own that). Anyways, REVIEW!!!!!! Tell me what you think!!!! 'Til next time!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I usually don't say much at the beginning of a chapter, but I just want to say that I absolutely love everyone who reviewed!!!!!! Thanks!!!!! You guys are the reason I keep this going!!!! And to Kagomi- OF COURSE!!!!!! Now, to the story.

  


Disclaimer: I own the plot, and . . . um . . . that's about it. I don't own CCS. Oh yeah, I own the stub of a movie ticket from a couple of years ago I found in my pocket. 

  


Ch 3- Wrong Number

_"Somebody save me_

_ Somebody take my hand and_

_ Lead me where there's _

_ No tears, no pain_

_ One time for a change_

_ Somebody hold me_

_ Tell me everything's gonna be okay_

_ I'm asking, begging please_

_ Somebody save me . . ."_

  


I've always been partial to corners. I know lots of people will say that it's a bad thing to be backed into one, but in a corner, no one can sneak up on you. You see everything you need to see, and you've got protection. Sort of.

But out . . . there, or then . . . there were no corners. No place for me to hide. Sometime back I'd dropped to my knees when I'd stopped, and I was stuck like that.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and I couldn't see, what with the tears streaming down my face. I was so tired, more so than I've ever been. Something deep within told me to stay awake, so I tried. My struggle for consciousness was draining, and I was contemplating giving up when I heard a voice,

"Don't you dare."

I tried to see someone through the blur of blackness, but I failed miserably. Nothing was there. Maybe I was starting to imagine things. After all, who would be out here? For all I knew I could have gone totally insane or something, and I had created this dimension in my mind. Or maybe I had never really existed, and everything was just a lie. Maybe . . . there were so many maybes. I started to doubt my sanity.

I've always been fairly open to new ideas, mainly because of my powers. Who am I to scoff at other people's beliefs when I, myself, possess something that no one would ever think was true.

I see the past in water. I see the future in fire.

Who ever heard of anything like that? No one knows about my 'special abilities'. I've been hurt enough to know that you can trust no one. Everyone's human, they can't help their weakness. It's not their fault.

The only way I can protect myself is to stay away from everyone else. Especially men. All they want is to be the first to take away my innocence. They are the ones with the power, and they know it. Besides, I already know I'm going to get hurt by one. A lot. Physically and emotionally. So why bother?

That's probably why, when I heard the voice again, I tried to get away. It was definitely a male's voice. I struggled desperately against my invisible bonds, to no avail. There was no escape.

Determined not to go down looking like a coward, I looked up, my eyes defiant. I was startled to see eyes, for once, not filled with an impure lust. Eyes that looked . . . concerned. It was such an odd feeling, seeing someone that didn't want to kill me. And all of a sudden, I knew I was safe. Someone was finally there to catch me if I were to fall, and I felt peace. But I couldn't. What if he was just trying to gain my trust, only to . . . I didn't even want to think about what he could do to me.

The closer he came, the safer I felt, the stronger I felt, and the more I struggled. I tried my best to get out of the trap I was sure he was pulling me into, but I couldn't. I couldn't move, my eyes wouldn't leave his. The looked so familiar . . . and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was a pair of very worried amber eyes.

*~*~*~*~

I woke up, once again in a different bed. I had no idea where I was. Looking around, I was surprised to find myself in a very pink room that seemed somehow familiar. There were stuffed animals everywhere, even though I could tell the room belonged to a girl near my age. What had happened? 

The door was creaking open, slowly but surely. It was evident that whoever was on the other side did not want their presence known. Maybe they didn't know I was there, or maybe . . . they were trying to sneak up on me to attack me! Should I hide? But there was no time. What could I do in self-defense? That lamp over there looked promising . . . but it was probably plugged in, which would make it difficult to pull out quickly if the need came . . . 

I was saved any further contemplation by a pair of amethyst eyes peaking out from behind the door. When they saw that I was awake, the widened considerably– enough to make me think they were about to pop out– and their owner gave a little shriek.

"Sakura! You're awake!" Tomoyo always could reach a pitch to make you deaf. She hurried over to my side, and I saw they tray she was carrying with here. I was suddenly aware of how long it had been since I'd eaten. "Oh, we were so worried when you just collapsed on our way home. You should have seen how worried Kero was, I've never seen him like that." She apparently didn't notice the look of complete confusion I was sure was written plainly on my face. "And then when we couldn't wake you up, even Yue started to get worried. Are you hungry, I'm sure you are. After all, you've been unconscious for almost a week now." And without further ado, she proceeded to scoop some of the oatmeal from the bowl and raise the spoon to my mouth. 

I, needless to say, was shocked. She was talking as though nothing had happened, and she seemed to be completely unconcerned that the last time she'd seen me, I'd been terrified, and then I'd popped away. And who were these Kero and Yue people? I collapsed? I couldn't remember . . .

She didn't seem to care that the only reason the oatmeal made it into my mouth was because it was hanging open in shock. She just chatted away without a care in the world.

"Touya was so mad when Syaoran walked up carrying you, he wouldn't even let him into the house, no matter how much I told him that you'd want him to be here." All I could do was stare dumbly at her, until something registered with me.

"Wait– Touya? He's here? H-how?" I sputtered, completely lost again. Tomoyo gave me an odd look before answering.

"He lives here, remember? He got out of college a long time ago." My brother went to college? 

"He isn't sick anymore?" I persisted, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

"Sakura, he got rid of his cold weeks ago," she laughed. "Are you okay? Maybe you hit your head on a rock when you fell . . ."

"I didn't fall! Don't you remember?" I was close to shouting now, desperate for something to tell me I wasn't losing my sanity. "You took me to the bathroom . . . and I sort of . . . popped in front of you . . . and . . ." I trailed off. What exactly _had_ happened? I wasn't even sure, and here I was trying to explain it to someone else. Before she could answer, though, the door opened once more. Unlike last time, however, it was opened as though the person knew exactly what he was going to find and he wasn't afraid of disturbing anything.

"Finally kaijuu, you're up."

"W-what did you just call me?!" The nerve of the strange man in front of me was shocking! How dare he call me a monster! All of a sudden, I had the unexplainable urge to get up and stomp on his foot.

But in his eyes . . . there was an air of familiarity, and he seemed accustomed to calling me that, even though he seemed to care for me . . .

"Um . . . Touya?" Tomoyo broke in, her eyes concerned. "Can I talk to you outside for a second?" Something was wrong, I could tell. I wondered what it was. When they had shut the door firmly behind them, I chanced another curious look about the room. I saw pictures upon pictures plastered on the walls, and something clicked.

That man had been Touya. Touya was my brother. He wasn't sick anymore.

Those pictures. They were of my friends. Everyone was laughing. I looked to the night stand beside me, and was shocked to see one of myself, leaning against some guy, looking extremely content.

What was going on? Did I have a twin? Very unlikely. Then what? Something was wrong, and I could hear voices being raised outside the door. I blocked them out, not wanting to here anything more of this insane nightmare. With an effort, I dragged myself to the window, and looked out.

_Oh my God._

I was looking at my street. The street I've lived on since I was twelve. The view was from Kiko's 'private' room. And I was in it. I took another look around. The stuff in there looked very much like things I would have gotten, if I hadn't had to change myself in order to survive. Was this . . . my room? Maybe what I'd always wished had been true, and it had been just a nightmare. When my eyes traveled over what I assumed to be my room again, they caught on a peculiar-looking book, haphazardly hidden under many papers. 

Something seemed to draw me to it, and I reached a hand out and took a step forward, but I spotted someone outside, walking up to the house. Something seemed to be troubling him, but he looked extremely determined. Briefly, I wondered what was wrong, but years of living in fear kicked in, and I did what I always did: when in doubt, hide.

Clutching the book to me, almost unconsciously, I watched him from the side of the window, knowing that he couldn't see me from his angle. It was a good thing, too, because as soon as I had moved, he looked up, as though hoping to see something he knew he wouldn't, and I had the shock of recognition.

It was the boy from the picture!

Something jolted inside me, and I had no idea what to do. My heart pleaded to stay, but my mind was screaming at me to run. So I did.

I slipped out the window as soon as the guy entered the house, and stealthily made my way to a nearby tree, praying my grip on the ledge would hold.

As soon as I reached my objective, I leaped onto a handy branch and made my way down. I had no idea where I was going, only that I was going to run as fast I could. So I did.

I ran past children running through sprinklers, women watering their gardens, men washing their cars, all blissfully unaware of me. Something pushed me on, kept me from tiring. This time, there was no maniacal laughter following my every step, but still I ran as I had that day.

The day my mother had been murdered.

This time, though, I took all day to reach the mansion I'd collapsed in before. Cautiously, I slowed my step, taking in everything around me. Half the shutters hung askew, creaking ominously in the breeze. Weeds that reached my waist clung to me, hindering my progress. The mansion seemed to retreat with every step I took, and before long, it was starting to waver in my vision. Nevertheless, I plodded on.

I don't know why. I really had no hope for anything if I reached it. All I knew was the I had to make it, no matter how heavy my legs were . . . 

Vaguely, I wondered why I was so tired . . . all I had done was run around all day . . . I'd been asleep for a week, if Tomoyo was to be believed. And why not? She had never led me astray before . . . actually, she had never really led me anywhere. With a pang, I realized what an awful friend I must be. We considered each other best friends, and I never told her anything. She's perceptive, that much I know, considering the number of times she saw through my feeble lying skills, before I'd been able to practice. She must have noticed something was going on. And how did she know that doctor?

Speaking of which . . . why hadn't anyone wanted to treat me that day? It was almost as though someone had told them not to– but that was ridicules. With so much to think about, I nearly ran straight into the front door. I'm really glad I didn't, considering how big and wooden that thing was. I would had got some serious bruising if I had, not to mention the splinters. The thought of slivers of wood stuck in my forehead was so disturbing that I actually reached up to feel my forehead, just to make sure it wasn't covered with pointy things or something.

That's when I realized something. All my bruises were gone. Completely gone, as though they'd never been there. Wherever I was, I was really starting to like it a lot better than where I used to be.

Where was I, anyway? Was it true? Was this who I was, and everything else had been a nightmare? I wanted it to be so bad, but something nagged at the corners of my mind. Shouldn't I remember something, at least? I might have some sort of amnesia, but there's no such thing as total loss of memory, no matter what movies say.

Maybe . . . The wind started to pick up, and for the first time, I realized that clouds had been gathering above me all day. I was in for a thunder storm and I need shelter. Fast. 

Without hesitation, I pushed the door open, looking for any signs of life. There were none. A flash of light blinded me momentarily, and the following crash of thunder was enough to send me flying into the abandoned mansion in terror. A grand staircase greeted me, its once-shining banister dull with dust and age. The crystal chandelier hung above me, no longer illuminating the enormous entryway, cobwebs hanging almost elegantly from it. It was as though time had been stopped in the house, and I had just stepped into my past. 

Another flash of light allowed me to see the portraits of the Hiiragizawa line glaring down their noses at me, their eyes following every cautious step I took. A sense of elegance still hung in the air, bringing back many memories. Mechanically, almost, I walked through the halls that had, for a brief time, been my home. Everything was the same. I was bombarded with mixed emotions; it had been the last place I had felt safe, and I had been happy, but they had also abandoned me. They had left me at that orphanage, without so much as a note asking whether I was still alive.

The weather seemed to reflect my mood, and rain was coming down in sheets out there. It was only a matter of time before it began to hail. 

Unconsciously, I reached for the pendant I had worn since I was three . . . in that different place and time. To my surprise, I found it hanging on my neck, as always. Everything else about me was different, why did I still have my necklace? I had no time to ponder this, however, because just then, lightening flashed, in itself nearly scaring me to death, but when the thunder crashed, I was terrified. And I'll admit it; I'm scared of thunder and lightening. I always have been. But being completely alone in that mansion didn't help, either. 

Every step I took echoed, my heartbeat rung so loud I could even hear it above the din of the storm. With every breath I drew, it became harsher, more ragged. And I did what I've always done when I was scared. 

I found a corner.

Huddled there, cold and lost, I will say that I've never felt so alone. All I wanted was for someone to show up and save me, but I knew that would never happen. I held the pink book tighter to me without realizing it. Its corner dug into me, as though it wanted my attention. Looking down, it barely registered that I could see it clearly, though the only light came from the occasional flash of lightening. 

Glad of something to keep me distracted, I opened the book, and to my amazement, found cards instead of pages. They were strange, but beautiful. Characters had been drawn on them, and I instinctively knew they were anything but ordinary. Shuffling through them, I saw two that especially caught my eye. One seemed to be a young woman holding a clock, and 'return' was written across the bottom. It was the other one, though, that intrigued me. It depicted an old man, swathed in robes like the other, but he was holding what seemed to be an hourglass. 

'Time' it said. 

Time is such a funny thing. The fourth dimension. And I can see through it. It's supposed to be this unfathomable thing, a big secret from everybody that we all just accept to be true. I wonder why I can see the past, the future?

Lightening flashed, thunder crashed, bringing me out of my reverie. I screamed and held the card to my heart, wishing only to be back at the place I have called home for sixteen years. Or have I?

It may not have been the best of lives, but at least I knew what to do. There was the familiarity that could comfort me, though there was nothing remotely pleasant about it. All I wanted was to be back.

I closed my eyes and tears trickled out. Everything was spinning. I was getting dizzy. Why wouldn't it stop? Didn't they know I was going to be sick? All I wanted was to be back at the home I never had. I opened my eyes briefly, and the last thing I saw before I blacked out again was a pair of now familiar worried amber eyes. 

At last. I was safe. 

*~*~*~*~

When I opened my eyes again, I was grateful to find myself back in that big elegant bed. I was so tired of blacking out and waking up in unfamiliar places, it was a blessing to look up and see the same elegant satin draped above me, my sheets once again perfect. Everything was exactly the way it used to be, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

But what if I was back in the day I was here last? 

There was no way for me to know whether or not I was once again in the present. I couldn't ask the date, I didn't even know how long I'd been gone. If Tomoyo walked in, what would I do? Ask her if she remembered me popping in on her, then disappearing? If I were back in the past, she would think I was crazy, and that would get me absolutely no where. 

How did I get back, anyway? It was getting to the point that I really wanted to know who those eyes belonged to, but I didn't dare ask. I didn't want to ruin the mystery. There were so many things I didn't understand, and to be quite frank, I didn't want to. I knew something was going on that would only serve to complicate my already twisted life. I didn't think I would be able to handle that, but even I couldn't deny that I wanted to know what was going on. 

Everything was getting so complicated. All I ever wanted was a normal life, but I never did get that. I have never asked for anything else. Ever. I didn't ask for the beatings to stop. I didn't wish the alcohol away, or the attempts on my innocence. I never asked to see my family again. 

I never even asked for someone to love me. 

I guess my special 'gift' is the one thing that can guarantee I will never be normal. All I can say is that whoever is out there giving out these little 'gifts' had better start making sure that the people actually _want_ them. But then again, it's not something I would wish on anyone. I know I can deal with it, so maybe it's better for me to have to bear this weight.

So I comfort everyone else. They don't know what it's like to truly despair. I don't want them to. No one deserves the pain I go through. No one. I hope that one day . . . maybe . . . someone will try to save me.

The door creaked open, and an amethyst eye peeked out at me. I sucked in a breath. This was when I find out where– or when– I was. 

When she saw my lying there with my eyes wide open, she nearly unhinged the door when she burst into the room, only to smother me with her hug. Apparently I wasn't there unless she could prove it to herself. I lay there indulgently for about five minutes, but then I really started to need air, and I tried to tell her that. But unless I wanted large quantities of her dark hair in my mouth, I could only make a few very odd sounds from the back of my throat. 

I didn't work that well.

The door opened again, and I prayed that whoever it was would notice that I was slowly suffocating.

"Tomoyo," I heard a voice say. It sounded like the doctor again, "Kindly do not kill your friend after all the trouble we have gone through to save her." Was it just me, or did he sound amused?

Finally, she drew back, and to my shock, I saw tears in her eyes. I couldn't tell whether they were tears of joy or not, but I'm not sure she knew either. 

"Don't even think about ever trying something like that ever again," she said, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably. "You were gone for a week, do you know that?! And none could even feel you! I didn't whether you were dead, or is they'd taken you, or anything! You put me through a lot, young lady! And then when we finally find you, you're out cold for three days!" By now, the blue-haired doctor had taken Tomoyo gently by the arm and was leading her out of the room. Of course, that only served to agitate her more, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was going to work herself into hysterics. I figured I was the only one there that would be able to head her off before she got herself sick, as she's been known to do before.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to make the small smile on my face genuine. I sat up, and said the second she paused to take a much-needed breath of air, 

"Remember the time I went to your house and fell down the stairs all because of the stupid thing you made me wear?" She was looking at me indignantly now.

"It was not stupid! I only wanted to see you in a dress. Besides, it was mostly your fault, you were trying to run away."

"What else could I do?" I shrugged helplessly, "You were going to get me on tape. I had to run."

"I wasn't getting my camera," she protested. " I was just going to the kitchen to get a cookie for you!" I snorted.

"Yeah, so you could blackmail me into standing still while you taped me." By now Tomoyo had completely forgotten that she had been about to rant at me for hours, and was starting to smile.

"Oh yeah . . . I'd forgotten about that."

"Convenient." I knew I had successfully distracted her, and I knew it was safe for me to open my arms, knowing she needed the comfort. I would have preferred solitude, but everyone else came first.

"I really am sorry." I said while she cried. She had to get it out, I knew. The best way to heal is to get it out. And I really did feel bad for making her worry. Maybe if I'd told her something . . . but she might not be able to deal with it. Besides, I had a feeling she already knew more than I'd told her.

"It's not your fault," she said when she finally came up, drying her eyes. "You must be hungry. Do you me to bring you something to eat?" she said briskly. 

"Sure, food sounds good." I hesitated, then said what I knew she wanted to hear. "Do you want to eat with me?" No matter how much she wanted to, though, she wouldn't unless she really thought I wanted her there. "Unless you're too busy . . ." She smiled.

"For my best friend? Never. I'll be right back." With that she turned and left, and the doctor soon followed, after casting me an odd look.

I sighed. The truth was that I didn't think I'd be able to keep anything down if I tried to eat, and all I wanted was to be alone, but as that's what I usually want, and I rarely ever get it, I knew I would be able to fake cheerfulness. It would make Tomoyo happy to see me eat, it would convince her that I really was all right, and I knew she would only worry if I chose to eat alone. I wanted her to be happy. She deserved it.

When she came in ten minutes later, I was ready. My mask was up, my fears were hidden. I scooted over to make room for her to sit, and allowed her to brush my hair as we gossiped the day away.

  


That night, as I lay in bed, struggling with the tears that threatened to get the better of me, I made a wish on a shooting star I saw streaming through the night sky.

_Please . . . somebody . . . save me._

A/N: I don't know what I think about this chapter . . . it seemed kinda pointless to me, but what do I know? I hope I didn't confuse too many people. :$ The part at the beginning was from the song 'Somebody Save Me' by Chalee Tennison (I don't own it). REVIEW!!! 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I know nobody cares, and everyone probably wishes I would shut up so they can get on with the story, but I just want to say that the other day I was adding someone's story to my favorites list, and I ended up looking at theirs, and I WAS ON IT!!!!!! Sorry. After Halloween. Sugar overload. I just feel very loved. : )

  


Well, it seems that I have to do some explaining. I don't know I can help without ruining some things, but I'll try not to(this story is AU, btw). Ch 1:

In the beginning, we get to know Sakura a little, and we see that her life isn't that great. Presumably, it has something to do with the people she's living with because of what she says at the very beginning about not wanting to be there when they're awake and the work she says they make her do. About half-way through, she has a flashback over her life, one year at a time. Basically, her mother is killed(Sakura is three), she runs away, ends up at the Hiiragizawa's, they send her to an orphanage where she gets abused, and then she gets adopted into an abusive home. The very end is not a flashback, but the present, she is sixteen, but I explained that I was keeping it a third POV for conformity's sake.

Ch 2:

At first, she's at the hospital, where no one will treat her(the reason for that will be revealed later). When she gets home, we see evidence of abuse and she gets saved by "a mysterious force". She ends up at Tomoyo's mountain house. For some reason, she has powers that she didn't before, and she acquires a new way of getting about. This doesn't turn out so well when she ends up in the past a couple of times.

Ch3:

I can't really explain where else she ended up, or else I'll ruin the story, but to answer Kura-chan's question: Sakura's real life is the one I started ch1 with and ended ch3 with. I really hope I cleared things up for some people. If not, I apologize, and I'll try to get my e-mail working so I won't have to answer questions in the chapter. I love everyone that's taking the time to read this, and please, just stick with me!!!!! I swear I'll try and write a chapter to explain everything, but that won't be until the end; right now Sakura's confused about what's going on, and since it's all from her POV, everyone gets to be confused, too!! On with the story!!!! 

  


Disclaimer: Let's all pretend for a minute that I really do own CCS . . . or not. It takes too much brain power. We'll just say I don't own it and leave it at that.

  


Wrong Number- Ch 4

_"So dark and deep_

_ All the shadows on the wall_

_ They seem as weak_

_ As all the creatures_

_ Great or small_

_ My hope is gone_

_ All my dreams have come to call_

_ From dusk to dawn_

_ I look for shelter from it all . . ."_

  


When I woke up next, I was more relieved than I can say to find myself in the same bed I fell asleep in. My head was pounding and I was more tired than I have ever been. I've never been drunk, but heaven knows I've been around enough of them to know what a hangover is like, and that's what it felt like for me. Briefly, I wondered whether I had gotten drunk, but simply didn't remember, but I brushed the thought aside for another, more urgent one.

  


I had to use the toilet. ASAP (as soon as possible).

  


I wasn't sure if anyone as around to help me, but I didn't really want any help, anyway. A 

girl's got to have a certain amount of pride, after all. So I heaved my self, cast and all, out of bed, and grabbing the folding chair, I used it as a sort of support to get past the door and down the hallways. But before I made it there, I passed a room filled with murmuring voices. Curious, I stopped. 

  


"Well, what do you think we should do with her now?"

  


"We obviously can't keep her here, they might find us."

  


"But we can't just ditch her somewhere!" That voice I recognized as Tomoyo's. I frowned in 

concentration. Who were the other people?

  
  


"We have to do something with her! We can't just leave her the way she is! You know what we all just went through! She obviously can't control what she does!" That seemed to be the first voice, and I got the feeling they were talking about me. But why? Where they . . . kidnapers? But Tomoyo . . . I trusted her to some degree . . . I didn't think she would ever do something like that. 

  


But then again, everyone changes.

  


I suddenly realized how it would look if they came busting out, only to find me leaning against the door, trying to hear them plotting against me. I really wasn't keen on scaring myself and somehow getting thrown into that other dimension, so I lumbered away, praying they wouldn't come out until I had made it to the bathroom. When I got there, I realized I was still in my now-bloody P.E. uniform. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I made a mental note to ask Tomoyo for some clothes. She always loved making me costumes . . . even if I rarely wore them. 

  


I really was a bad friend to Tomoyo. I wonder why she stayed with me all these years? I certainly never went out of my way to find friends, and I had made it clear that I could survive without her and she could leave whenever she liked. I pondered this as I washed my hands, barely paying attention to anything else. Like when I pulled my hand out from under the stream of water, as small globe followed, floating above my palm. This time I didn't cry out, or throw it away. I stared, transfixed, at the beautiful object before me. I was hypnotized by the way it spun, so slowly, so elegantly. 

  


And I began Seeing things. Unlike last time, I stayed outside the globe, and watched everything leaning against the cold counter.

  


. . . my family . . .

  


. . . people . . . did I know them? I felt like I did.

  


. . . happiness . . . why were they happy? 

  


. . . Tomoyo? What was she doing with my family? Sitting on my mother's swelling belly?

  


. . . her mother . . . my mother . . . cousins?

  


I don't know how I knew . . . I just did, like I had suddenly been downloaded with the information.

  


Everything was just getting weirder and more twisted. I couldn't for the life of me figure anything out, and it was driving me crazy.

  


The images in the globe were starting to fade, and scared of what might show up in it's place, I curled my fingers into a fist and the globe disappeared. That globe-thingy was really starting to grow on me. 

  


Grabbing my chair and sliding out the bathroom, to my horror, I noticed Tomoyo coming out of that room, apparently going to check up and me. In my panic, I raced down the opposite way and threw myself into a room completely blanketed in pictures and portraits. Realizing that hadn't been the best of moves, I groaned and pushed myself up on my butt, taking a look around as I did. What I saw there astonished me. Every square inch of the gigantic walls were plastered with pictures of Tomoyo's family . . . my family. 

  


I've lived most of my life accepting that I never have had a family, and I never will. I accepted that I had run away, it had been my decision, and I was going to have to live with that. Besides, I had never found anything about other people related to me on those rare moments I had on the computer. It was on that computer that I had found out about Touya's disease, about my father's brutal kidnaping and murder. There was no doubt in my mind that my father had been killed by the same people that took my mother from me. The day I found out, I swore revenge on those that had dared to take my life from me. They would pay for all the suffering they had caused. 

  


It didn't bother me that I had never Seen them, in all my searching for them, in both fire and water. Every night, I sent my thought out to them. My thoughts of hatred, my thoughts of despair. I wanted them to fear me, before they ever set eyes on me. And looking at the pictures on the wall only intensified my feelings. Looking at the happy, young faces of my family, I couldn't stop the swell of bitterness that rose up in my chest, threatening to suffocate me. I don't know whether they feel my thoughts or not, all I know is that there are times when I can feel someone's presence, and I figure that if I can feel them, they can feel me. 

  


I almost feel myself turn to stone again. I pushed every tender thought I had ever thought out of me head, thinking only of the pain I couldn't rid myself of, no matter what I didn

  


Oh, don't worry, I've never tried to cut myself or anything like that. I have witnessed too many deaths to take my life for granted. But I really have tried all that breathing crap psychiatrists are always telling you to do. Once I ever tried to talk about it, I really did. But how can I explain to someone what I cannot understand myself? I don't know why I have such hate in me. I've always assumed it to be because I witnessed my mother's murder, or perhaps because I spent eight years of my life in some sort of hell they tried to call an orphanage, or even because of the alcohol that ruined my adoptive parents and me. Or maybe it's all of that together. I wouldn't know. All I know is that anyone I've ever tried to get close to has pushed me away, more vulnerable than ever, or just plain hurt me to the extent that I have scars that I don't think will ever heal. Except for Tomoyo.

  


I spent the rest of the day locked in the picture room, torturing myself with thoughts of what my life could be like, if not for, well, a lot of things. But the one thing I did not do was cry. I couldn't cry. Not anymore.

  


*~*~*~*~

  


I don't know how long I was in there. I don't know who was banging on the door, trying to break their way in. I didn't really care. I wasn't doing anything to stop them; it wasn't like their presence was going to make a difference. There are just times when a girl's gotta wallow at rock bottom for a while before she can pick herself up. No matter that most girls would cry their hearts out and welcome comfort.

  


I'm not like most girls, why bother trying?

  


While I was locked in there, I had a lot of time to think. Well, sort of. It was like half my mind was frozen, numb, but another part, a smaller part, was sitting there, thinking, working things out. Sometimes all it takes is a moment of silence to get your brain working. 

  


I developed a theory, a radical one, I'll admit, but at least I had a guess about how I had gotten around before. Maybe . . . I had some ability that allowed me to move thorough . . . what? Time? Space? Another dimension? I truly had no idea. But in the beginning, I' had some sort of control over where I ended up, whether I knew it or not. I wished to get away from the images, and I found myself opposite the door. I wanted to find Tomoyo, and I was propelled in front of her. From there things had started to get crazy, and when I had seen that look of worry, away I had shot to the first time that particular look had graced her face. The one part I couldn't figure out was how I had ended up in the day my mother had been murdered. Unless . . .

  


I had wished for home, so had I been sent to the last time I had been in the only home I've ever had? Most likely. I guess after that I had completely lost whatever control I had and everything had spun out of control . . . until I had been saved. But by whom, and why did he, or she, keep showing up? 

  


I shook my head, trying to dispel thoughts of my mysterious savior. Instead, I chose to ponder upon the night that this had all began. 

  


I wonder what made me snap? I'd been able to take all their crap before, why not then? And how did the people know where to come and save me? Who were they, anyway? And how did I end up with Tomoyo? Did she know whoever was saving me? And, speaking of which, who was he? For I was pretty sure the eyes belonged to a he. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. One part of me, the part that wanted to believe I was sane, knew those eyes to be real. But another part, the part of me that needed to be alone, wished them to be something no one else knew about. It was terrible, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. I needed some secret, something good, something positive to keep from everyone, unlike everything else I've concealed.

  


By the time I was willing to come out of the daze I seemed to have been in, dusk had fallen, and I was ready to leave the room of pictures. I was attempting to get up with my cast when it suddenly occurred to me that it was as good a time as any to test my theory. If I was right, then I would be able to get out of that stifling house into the nature I loved, but if I was wrong . . . would I go spinning through that never-ending blackness again? I didn't want to know. But the only way I wouldn't live out the rest of my days in fear was if I faced my travel straight in the face.

  


Taking a deep breath, I pictured in my mind as clearly as I could the view I had from the window in 'my' bedroom, and braced myself for any sudden movements. Nothing happened. Not that I expected anything. I tried a different approach; closing my eyes, I let myself relax as much as I dared, allowing myself to get in touch with everything around me, and slowly but surely, I altered the sound that came to my ears to those of chirping birds and the rustling of falling leaves. I changed the feel of the carpet under me to the slightly itchy texture of grass. I felt myself calm a little, but nothing happened. 

  


Now I was more than mildly irritated, and I puffed my cheeks and blew hard in an attempt to relieve some stress. I didn't work, and I was about to just get up and slam through that door, cast and all, when I was suddenly thrown into the air. I slammed into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch that seemed to assure me that I was going to be crippled for life. My back felt like it was on fire as I slid down the wall. As used as I am to being arbitrarily thrown about, I made no move to call for help, but instead stood as best I could and glared in the direction I felt the concentration of power.

  


Wait a minute. Since when did I know how to sense power?

  


I shook my head; there was no time for thought– concentrating on the task at hand was all I had to do. For some reason, I had a very bad feeling about whatever was going on. The little hairs on my left arm rose, and I knew that was where the next attack was coming from. I had time to glimpse a flash of red before I hit the ground I had dived into. I could feel many other friction burn erupting, but it didn't really register.

  


A bone-chilling, maniacal laugh filled the air and I froze.

  


It was him. The man that killed my mother.

  


A calm, deadly fury coursed through me, giving me the strength to stand, the power to fight back. I don't know what came over me; my powers have never been about attack. I may have been able to use knowledge of the future as a way to protect myself, but even if I wanted to, the only way I have ever been able to inflict harm was to physically get up and beat them to a pulp myself.

  


So there I was, standing, despite the heavy black cast plastered to my leg (up to my thigh), and it was like I suddenly had an out-of-body experience. I could see myself, standing there, apparently facing nothing, ready to fight with nothing but the fire in my eyes. I could have laughed at how ridiculous it all looked, but I didn't. 

  


Almost of its own accord, my hand came out, delicately arched, as though I were a princess of old, ready to blow the silver dust from my hand. Instead of silver dust, however, a tongue of fire suddenly burst to life, inches from my palm. It didn't burn, though. I didn't see the future in it. I just sent it spinning to the corner– the corner that held the portrait of my mother and Tomoyo's.

The flame didn't touch it, though; it just . . . dissolved. Like it had been doused with large quantities of water.

  


For an instant, the power that had possessed me left and I was the me I had known for the past sixteen years. That second was all it took, and this time I crashed through the door before slamming into the wall. Whoever I was fighting seemed to particularly enjoy that method of inflicting bodily harm. Well, I could say one thing for them; it worked. 

  


"Sakura!" Tomoyo came running up the stairs, her eyes wide with fear. "Are you okay?! What happened?!" 

  


Suddenly wild with fear for my friend, I screamed,

  


"Run!" I had no idea why I said this, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were true. Some disaster was looming above us, just waiting for me to slip up, and that moment was as perfect as it could get. Tomoyo was someone who cared for me, and would do all that she could to help, even if it meant risking her own safety. And I was helpless to aid her. My attacker knew that. 

  


I shivered suddenly, but not from my thoughts; a breezed had swept by, slicing through the air. I knew in an instant what it was, and I could feel that tug in my chest I'd felt the last time I'd been 'transported'. This time, though, I stayed where I was, and I could see the man that was going for Tomoyo. It was a man. He was handsome, terrifyingly so. His flawless face was twisted into a sneer, his eyes glittering with malice. This was a man who enjoyed killing, who lived to see others suffer. This was the man that killed my mother. 

  


"Leave her alone," I commanded in a voice that was not my own. I stood with an assurance I did not feel, masked the surprise I felt that my cast no longer hindered me. The man stopped dead and slowly rotated to face. A wide grin spread across his face, sending shivers down my spine that I strived to conceal.

  


"Such bravery," he advanced, "I have not seen the likes of for a very long time." He started circling me like a hawk. I stood, back straight, eyebrow arched, watching his every move. "Not since your mother I believe." Seeing my eyes narrow in fury, he laughed, an unreal, too-perfect-too-fake laugh. I shivered.

  


"Don't you dare speak of my mother," I said through clenched teeth, a slight quiver in my voice betraying all that I really felt. His wide, maniacal grin spread.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me?" He was mocking me, and I knew it. I think that's when I pretty much lost it. Rage I had never felt before spilled through me, lacing my blood with power. I scared me how powerful I felt, how much I craved the power, and there was nothing I could do. My body was on fire, but I barely felt a thing.

Spreading my arms wide, I drew my power with me, made it into something tangible. Pink tongues of fire engulfed me, swelling until they burst from my hold, every ounce of it sent to one purpose; destroying the man in front of me, who looked too shocked for a moment to do anything but stand with his mouth open and stare. Just before he was hit by the tidal wave of my power, though, he snapped out of it, winked at me, and vanished, only to reveal Tomoyo standing there, completely unaware of what had just occurred. I realized I was floating mid-air at the same time I saw that what I had sent at the man was still going, and Tomoyo was directly in its path.

  


"STOP!!!!!!" Falling to my knees, once again in the 'normal' dimension, I collapsed, praying nothing would happen to Tomoyo because of my carelessness. I didn't black out, though I wished I had for a second, but I did see those amber eyes again, and I finally knew all was well.

  
  
  


*~*~*~*~*~

  


I lay in bed that night, just staring at the canopy above me. I still didn't know who it was that always seemed to save me, but I knew he was real. I heard him and Tomoyo talking in hushed tones as he carried me, bridal style, to my room. It was almost like they thought I was dying or something, and it scared me. I tried to struggle, yell out, anything to let them know I was alive and well, but, to my horror, I couldn't. I was helpless as a baby, too tired and weak to do anything, but not sleepy enough to actually fall asleep. 

"Who are you?" I whispered to the slight breeze that rippled the silky fabric above me. Shockingly, it seemed to hear me, and it lingered for a second, like it was deciding whether or not to answer my question. In the end, it simply disappeared, once again leaving me to my own thoughts. 

  


An hour later, finally resigned to another sleepless night, I decided to try the moving-around-thing. I didn't know where I wanted to go, though, and I wasn't about to risk setting off into something I wasn't very sure about with nothing in my mind. So I concentrated on getting to the bathroom. I figured I might as well start out small, with someplace I'd been. That is, if my theory was correct.

  


Visualizing with all my might the cold, hard tile . . . the stark white curtains . . . the stainless steel bars . . . 

  


Nothing.

  


Growling in my frustration, it took all I had to keep myself from screaming out loud. Not only would that put a tremendous strain on my vocal cords, but there was the chance that I might arouse people who would rather stay asleep. Instead, I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly. Finding this strangely more calming than usual, I did it again, this time imagining myself floating on a cloud . . .

  


_Mists were surrounding me, lapping gently at my ankles. Where was I? Everything was a swirl of gray and blue, like I was lost in a cloud. But how could that be? There is no way to stand in clouds, and besides; I wasn't cold. Aren't clouds supposed to be chilly? I brought my hand up to me upper arms. Did I have goose bumps?_

  


_ I heaved a sigh, for no apparent reason, but it seemed to relieve a little of the tension eating away at me. Acting purely on instinct, I concentrated solely on bring the mists to me, cloaking me like a blanket. With another breath I let out, I sent the clouds spinning away. Mesmerized by their beauty, I did it again, and again. And every time I did it, I felt calmer, stronger, and more ready to sleep. _

  


_ But I didn't want to go back down to earth. It was much better . . . wherever I was. I didn't want to tink about my life, I just wanted to get away from it all. Bringing my mists to me again, I used to propel me higher than I've ever been. I was free, and I danced around, letting my mists leave me alone. I wasn't afraid, though; I wanted to feel the thrill of falling infinitely. But even I knew there had to be and end somewhere, and when I felt it approaching, I allowed the mists to bring me up again, and so it went, for quite some time, and I got pretty good at commanding my mists._

  


_ After a while, when I thought I might just lay down on a cushion of clouds, I felt someone, ever so slightly, trying to poke their way into my sanctuary. Too tired to think much of it, and too lazy to do much about it, with a flick of my wrists, I sent a wall of fog to the intruder, blocking any further attempt to disturb me. _

  


_ But he didn't stop._

  


_ Slightly roused, I sat up, eyes narrowed, trying to perceive to dared bother me. Annoyed that I couldn't quite put my finger on it, I threw aside my wall and instead told it to take hold of the trespasser and bring him to me. Imagine my shock when it was no other than . . . _

  


_ But how? How did he find me? I didn't want him to be here, not when I was finally alone. I wasn't ready to deal with him yet, but there he was, sitting calmly on my mists like he owned them, as though he hadn't a fear in the world. How dare he? I didn't care who he was, or what he's ever done to me; I was only mad that he dared intrude on me. I still couldn't figure out exactly who he was, or where I had seen him before. _

  


_ Maybe a relative? A friend? Or an enemy? I didn't know. I didn't care._

  


_ "Who are you?" My voice was an odd mixture of curiosity and command. The only response was a short bark of laughter. Hadn't I heard that before? For some reason, I felt that I had._

  


_ "Don't you know?" I saw his face twist into a sneer. "I'm the last person you'll ever see." _

  


A/N: A little shorter than usual, perhaps, but that's the price to pay if we want this out while we're all still alive 'n kicking! ~_^ The song at the top was "Confused" by Sylver. I would just like to take this moment to say that I don't own any of the songs I use, and I probably have never heard them. I only use them for their lyrics. So please, if it's a really horrible song, don't get all disgusted or something, just read the lyrics and try to figure out why I paired it with its chapter. If you figure it out, I congratulate you; half the time I'm not even sure. REVIEW!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, I just want to apologize for getting this chapter out late. There's been a death in my family, and I haven't really been in the mood to type. Not to mention my stupid brother hogging the computer. But then, that's life, right? So, here it is, finally.

  


Wrong Number- Ch 5

_My life's confused_

_ and I try to strum my foot today_

_ My mind's abused_

_ All the stars forever stray_

  


_"I'm the last person you'll ever see." His word echoed in my head, bouncing back and forth, back and forth, and my head felt like it was being spilt in half. But how could I have a headache? Unless he had something to do with it . . . the look on his face would suggest that._

  


_ I fell to my knees, clutching my head. The tension was building. Soon I wouldn't be able to keep it all in. I had to let it out somehow. If I didn't, I was sure my head would explode. I had no idea what to do, and the pressure was increasing. I just wanted to run, like I always have, but I couldn't, I had to get rid of this burden that was trying to kill me. I couldn't keep it in anymore, and a scream burst from my lips. This seemed to have triggered the release of everything that had built up, and it exploded from me, a roaring pink flame. The force was so great I hurtled backwards, but there was no end. I was never going to crash to a painful stop. I would just keep going. Forever._

  


_ My scream was all that I could hear as I fell._

  


With a sickening crunch I smashed into the wall opposite my bed. The door flew open, nearly flying off its hinges.

  


"Sakura!" How did he know my name? Did I know him? Oh yes, the doctor. 

  


"Sakura!" That was definitely Tomoyo. The pitch was enough to bring back memories of that splitting, literally, headache. Where had I been, anyway? Was it all a dream? But that man . . . why couldn't I remember who he was?!?!?!?! What was wrong with my memory? Think Sakura, think!

  


Murderer!

  


He killed my mother!

  


Why didn't I kill him when I had the chance? That had been my world, I'd had the advantage, what had stopped me? Oh yeah. Memory loss.

  


"Are you okay? That sounded terrible! I'm so sorry! We didn't know until you nearly knocked him over with the power you sent out! Oh my–" What was she talking about? I looked at my surroundings: I was on the floor. How did I get there again? Did I really slide down that wall? Wow.

  


"And– Are you listening?" She finally seemed to realized that the glazed look in my eyes was not from tears.

  


I groaned. "Ow . . ."

  


"I guess we really can't leave you alone for more than five minutes, huh?" I looked up ready to attempt a glare at whoever had dared utter that, only to find myself staring into those amber eyes I had gotten to know so well.

  


He was real?

  


"I'm okay, Tomoyo." I shook my head, trying to clear the fogginess that hung over everything. "I'll just need a few more band-aids." I smiled weakly at her, praying she would take my pathetic attempt at a joke as a sign that I was really okay and she could leave me alone. No such luck.

  


"Oh, no you don't," she wagged her finger at me accusingly, "You're not pretending that you're okay this time. I've fallen for that little stunt enough to know not to believe you." Darn

  


I puffed out my cheeks and blew, sending the hair in front of my face flying.

  


"Fine." I pouted like a little kid and crossed my arms stubbornly. "I want food and water and a blanket and a pillow and an explanation."

  


"Whatever you say, but I'm not leaving you alone," she warned, "They can go get it. I am staying right here with you and making sure you don't go disappearing on us again." Like she could do anything if _he_ came back. But I didn't say anything. 

  


The two guys turned to leave and I yelled after them, "I want pancakes with maple syrup and butter and apple juice." As an afterthought I added, "The juice is on the side!" Satisfied that I had made myself clear, I settled back against the wall, ready to hear whatever Tomoyo had to say. But, sadly, it was not to be.

  


She started tugging on my sheets, trying to make them perfect, before reaching down and tugging on me. I didn't quite understand at first, and all I could do was stare at her blankly. Did you know she has the most beautiful amethyst eyes? They're so pretty. And they go perfectly with her dark, dark hair and her pale, pale skin. She usually is the one that's trying to get me into 'decent' clothing, as she puts it. But a mini and a tank make it really hard to do stuff, you know? Like kicking someone and running away really, really fast, for example. So I usually just run when she gets that look in her eye. You know the one. 

  


And she happened to look that way just then, except she wasn't smiling happily with a twinkle in her eye this time. Oh no, she was looking just plain evil if you ask me. She knew I couldn't run, and my bloody and disgusting clothing was a perfect excuse for her to get me dressed in something else.

  


"Please, Tomoyo, I'm, um, hurt, and I don't think I can, um, do anything but sleep, and um, eat." I stumbled over my words, trying to get out of what I knew to be inevitable. I faked a cough. "You know, I really think I should just, um, rest. Right here. Without doing anything first, I mean." By that point I had really given up hope of ever getting out of the situation I was in, but I figured it was worth a shot. There's no harm in trying, right? 

  


"No." That's all she said. She didn't even bother looking at me, but just kept right on making my bed and proceeding to go through the chest I hadn't noticed before. I groaned and slid even further down, until almost all of me was parallel to the ground. In that chest was the beginning of my end. 

  


The Chest of Doom.

  


"Please, Tomoyo, have mercy," I put on my best set of puppy eyes, "I'll do anything you want, just please," I paused for dramatic affect (A/N: or is it effect? I can never figure out the difference) and sniffed really loudly, like I was on the verge of hysterics, "_don't pick the clothes_." My voice was kind of like one of those fake-scary voices, but you have to understand where I'm coming from. Think pink and orange, itchy and poufy, bows and chains, and you'll be pretty close.

  


Now, I think I gave a totally awesome performance, one that at least deserved some sort of recognition, but did I get any? No. Unless you count Tomoyo shaking her head slightly, and if you looked really closely, it sort of looked like she was trying to suppress her laughter, but other than that– nothing. Talk about no mercy.

  


Just then, she turned around, whipping the clothing in my face, as if to say, _'Ha! You couldn't stop me!' _ __

  


I won't horrify you with all the gory details, but I will say that just because I didn't beat Tomoyo to a pulp when she tried to get me into a silk . . . dress . . . thing, doesn't mean I will be so forgiving to others, just keep that in mind, all you fashion designers-to-be.

  


"Tomoyo, if you come any closer with that- that _thing_, I swear, I- I'll do that moving . . . thing!" I threatened, wagging my finger at her, trying to inch my way, slowly but surely, to the door.

  


She rolled her eyes. "Come on, dressing nicely for once will not kill you!" Her face was turning kind of pink, and I was really starting worry about her health. But oh well; I was getting pretty close to the door. Any second now . . . and I'd be free!

  


"Yes it will!" I insisted, trying to keep her distracted. "Remember that time you put me in those platform shoe thingys and I tripped down the stairs and broke my ankle and then I tried to get up but I couldn't, so I fell back down and broke my wrist? I could have died because of those stupid shoes!"

  


She looked at me, clearly exasperated. "You tried over the bag you put there."

  


"But if I had been in normal shoes, they wouldn't have gotten caught in the strap," I pointed out. Just a couple more inches . . . and I was free!

  


Ignoring the heavy cast weighting me down, I pushed off from the wall and, tucking myself into as best a ball I could, I rolled about twenty feet away, stopping just before I took a tumble down the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tomoyo burst from my room, and without a further thought, I proceeded to slide down the flight of stairs, using my cast as a sled of sorts. I have no shame when I say that I was thoroughly enjoying my little personal roller-coaster ride, especially when I had to grab hold of a pole from the banister itself to swing myself around one of those landings; you know, the ones that change the direction of the staircase so you can squeeze more steps into a smaller space. That is, I was, until I sensed someone coming up the long fight of stairs, so I did the only thing I could think of: I jumped.

  


Using my good leg, I sort of pushed off a step, relying on my momentum to get me high enough to propel me over the banister of the landing that I was rapidly approaching. When I was close enough (by now I was airborne), I grabbed hold of the banister and used my arms facilitate my flight. Even with that extra pull, though, my cast barely made it over with me, and I remembered just in time to twist my foot so it wouldn't get caught.

  


As I was flying through the air, I was relived to see that the area just below the landing was one of those huge sitting rooms with lots of gigantic, squishy sofas. I wondered not for the first time just how big this 'mountain retreat' of Tomoyo's was.

  


Unfortunately, my luck wasn't enough to have sent me into the air perfectly aimed at the biggest couch, so I had to twist and kick a little to get myself into a position that would end up on the couch but would survive if I happened to roll off. I realized half-way down that my current speed wouldn't allow me to simply thump into a perfect landing on the couch– I was going to have to figure out another way of landing without killing myself. So when I finally hit the couch (and when I say hit, I mean _hit_), I shifted my position to ensure that the resulting bounce would land me on the armchair a couple of feet away.

  


But by that time, I wasn't ready to give up on this game I was playing, so I sprung off the armchair the second I made contact, this time grabbing a pillow as I went. Throwing it to the ground with a flick of my wrist, much like tossing a frisbee, I hopped on and slid across the hardwood floor on one leg.

  


Until I ran into the one person not watching my escapades from the stairway with an open mouth. Him. The one with the amber eyes. Shivering, I almost considered giving up, in favor of finding out who he was, but decided against it. After all, how did I know I could trust this man? No matter what he had ever done for me, he was a stranger, and of strangers I must always be wary.

  


I gave no conscious thought to my actions then, I just did what I felt I had to do: I jumped into that alternate dimension, the one where my broken leg did not matter, and ran. This time, I had no real destination, so I didn't skip around from place to place, although I did tend to go running between the two dimensions quite a bit, which was kind of weird. Like one time, I was running along a hallway, straight towards a wall, since I had found that I could pass quite easily through them if I wanted to. But this time, whatever had control over which dimension I was in decided that I needed some time back in the 'real world', so instead of running into the room behind the wall, I ended up running smack into the wall, at top speed, and was immobilized for a number of seconds while I tried to figure out which way was up.

  


By the time I figured it out, I was already back in that other dimension, so it didn't really matter anyway. I suppose it must have looked slightly odd to Tomoyo and everyone else to see me popping up all over the place, running at top speed, tripping, then disappearing again. Oh well.__

All that really matters is that I somehow ended up outside, but I didn't stop running, oh no. I was completely caught up in the moment and nothing could stop me now. I kept going until I reached a little park down the road. I was so shocked when I saw the first sign of civilization that I halted to a stop and was jerked into the 'real' world. I stumbled a little with my cast, but I recovered. My cast held almost none of my attention, though, I was too busy staring at the children. 

They were playing. Laughing. Like I never had. Like I never would.

  
  


I had never realized until that moment just how much more mature I was than anyone my age was supposed to be. I had seen more, felt more than a 16 year old should have to deal with. It wasn't fair. I have never done anything to deserve all the pain I've had to go through. But then again, I would not wish my burdens upon another. I know I can handle it. I know I'm strong enough.

  


And I should be, after so many years . . .

  


So, Tomoyo was related to me all along. Why didn't she ever tell me? I suppose there is the slight chance that she never knew . . . but that's unlikely. All those times we were together, she never mentioned a thing. Vaguely, I wondered how many of the children in front of me would have to grow up to face horrible realities. Making my way to a nearby bench, I found myself wishing I could protect all the children in front of me from any and all harm. 

  


But I knew that was impossible. You can only shield the ones you love so much. After awhile, you're just putting them in danger of becoming the victim of the less innocent.

  


I wish I still was innocent. But how, when I've seen so much, felt so much pain and sorrow. I wish I were still the way I used to be, naive and trusting. I used to think that everyone could be trusted, if you just gave them a chance. If only. 

  


I sighed, and looked to the sky. It would be raining soon. I love the rain. It falls whenever it pleases, regardless of what anyone says. Such power is held in those seemingly vaporous. When I can, I sit out in the rain and let the clouds cry the tears I didn't know how to; I let the drops wash over me, cleansing me of everything that had gone wrong.

  


But I hate when it rains. There are times when I See nothing, but every time it rains, I See. In every droplet that falls, I See. There are no limits to what past I See. It drives me crazy. 

  


But sitting in that park, I knew that I wouldn't mind when the droplets began to fall; actually, I was hoping to see something that would explain why I was suddenly so sure that I would be able to control what I saw. Or why I could suddenly move through dimensions and shoot fire. 

  


I don't know how long I sat there, looking up at the darkening sky, just thinking. But the next thing I knew, cold drops were falling, rudely awakening me from my thoughts. Everyone had left except for me, and everything was eerily silent. The steadily increasing rain was no help either. Within seconds I was beginning to feel the water soak through my bloody sweat pants. I did nothing to stop this, however, and only looked dead ahead, commanding the rain (that was now coming down in sheets) to show me why my mother was killed. 

  


Something told me everything started with my mother, and I always listened to my gut. But I saw nothing. Typical. The one time I actually want to See, I can't.

  


"Kind of a wet place to sit, don't you think?" asked a voice to my right. Purely out of reflex, my right elbow jabbed and my left fist swung around in the approximate position of the speaker's nose. To my surprise, I felt both my arms stopped abruptly, and I found myself facing those amber eyes.

  


"Sorry." With a quick twist and a jerk, both my arms were free. "Who are you?"

  


"Call me Li."

  


"What do you want?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but it kind of came out shortly.

  


"To get you out of the rain so you can finally eat those pancakes I worked so hard microwaving for you."

  


I looked in his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. "Fine." Why shouldn't I trust him? He had done nothing but help me before. Besides, if he tried anything, all I had to do was think myself away and I was gone. I looked around, trying to locate his mode of transportation. But there was nothing there. I blinked, thinking that some rain drops had found their way into my eyes, and when I opened them a split second later, I was standing in what I assumed to be Tomoyo's kitchen.

  


I suppose it was styled after a rustic cabin in the woods. Everything was plain, unfinished, and the stove was modeled after an old wood-burning. There was no table, and only two windows in the entire room, which certainly explain why the vast room was so dark. 

  


Glancing at Li, I saw a smirk settled on his face– he was clearly anticipating some kind of reaction of surprise, so I immediately trained my face to look like I had been expecting something like that. What can I say? I am a naturally defiant person. Or maybe it was a learned habit.

  


"I'm not hungry." I turned on my heel and marched into my special dimension and out of the room. I saw Tomoyo turn into a room down the hall from me. Deciding that she owed me an explanation, I made my way silently down the hall, forgetting that no one could hear or see me. 

  


"I think I deserve to know what going on, Eriol!" I heard books slam and I grinned– someone was about to face Tomoyo's wrath at it's worst.

  


"You know I can't tell you anything other than what you know now," came the tired reply of the doctor.

  


"And why not?! She's my cousin! I, of all people, should know what's going on!" So she did know. "I am her only living relative, and you are going to tell me what is going on right now." Her voice had gone low and icy, and I could just picture the poor doctor cringing in fear.

  


I could hear Eriol's sigh all the way in the hall. "Tomoyo, if I promise to tell you everything, you have to swear that what is said in hear is not repeated, not even to Sakura." Well that doesn't seem very fair. "No one must know, or my position in the Resistance will be compromised. And you know that only way we can help Sakura is if–"

  


"Yeah, I know." But I don't! "Quit stalling and start explaining." Wow, I never saw this side of Tomoyo before. I slipped through the wall that was between me and my story, and just in time. The second I was in I saw Eriol mutter something then send some blue shimmery stuff at the walls. Something told me that it was a spell to keep people on the outside from hearing what went on inside. I made my way to a spare chair that gave me a good view of the doctor's face. Vaguely I wondered where my new instinct had come from, but I pushed that thought away as soon as the doctor started speaking. His voice wasn't his usual quiet, but friendly, one; it had taken on the tone of an old man recounting the beginning of the world.

  


"It all started when Sakura's mother was fourteen and she was approached by the Magikos. They offered her a position in their group, sensing the great amount of magical potential she possessed. Her initial reaction was to reject their offer, but someone within the Magikos was from the future. He wanted the world, and he wanted the Cards, but, with a living and powerful Mistress, he knew there was no chance he could take them. But, his power was great enough to see that if Nadeshiko became one of the Magikos, Sakura would never receive the powers of Clow. He convinced Nadeshiko the best way to protect those she loved was to join the Magikos. So she did.

  


"Under their guidance, Nadeshiko's power blossomed and he returned to the future. She possessed powers that no one in the Magikos had heard of, and she soon became stronger than even the most powerful Elders of the Magikos. When she as sixteen, a prophecy was made. It seemed to hint that there was one who had the power to hold the world in her grasp, if that was what she wanted. I don't know the details, but supposedly, everything seemed to point to Nadeshiko, except one point that they couldn't figure out the meaning of. In their greediness, they shrugged it off and began to make plans for the revolution of the world. It was a decision that would cost them everything.

  


"When they approached Nadeshiko, though, she refused. This time, they couldn't lure her with thoughts of happiness. You see, there are some inevitabilities in our destinies. Meeting Fujitaka when she was sixteen was one of hers. It's lucky that the prophecy hadn't come any sooner, or we might know a very different world than the one we live in now. Nadeshiko believed she had found the ultimate happiness, and no temptations of unlimited power would sway her into joining. When they pressured her further, she left.

  


"But unknown to everyone, Nadeshiko was indeed intrigued by the prophecy. She had no desire to take over the world, but the power to manipulate time was tempting, so began to train in secret. Over the years, her power became too much for even her to conceal. The Magikos found her. She was now nineteen, and married to Fujitaka, and it was harder for her to flee. So she endured everything they did to her in silence, as long as they stayed away from her family. But, a year later, when her first child was conceived, she realized that she could not live like that anymore. So she struck a deal: she would train the less powerful of the Magikos, in exchange for her solitude. They agreed.

  


"Over the next seven years, Nadeshiko had trained herself to channel her immense stores of raw power into whatever she was doing, and she had managed to create an amulet that would conceal her aura, so the Magikos could not find her until it was time for another training. It wasn't until her second child was born that things started to get shaky. When Sakura was born, everyone knew they had made a terrible mistake: it was not Nadeshiko that the prophecy had spoken of; it was Sakura. 

  


"All of a sudden, it was a mad rush to get through to Sakura. By now the Magikos were completely corrupt and they were willing to do whatever it took to secure Sakura's loyalty and power. Nadeshiko, in a desperate attempt to sever all ties with her past, performed a complex spell that left her drained of all her magical energy. The spell was supposed to make sure that, to the Magikos, everyone that Nadeshiko knew would be wiped off the face of the Earth. Also, now completely devoid of any magical energy, the only was they would be able to track her down and find her was through Sakura, and she believe that she was young enough that her powers would not shine through until she was old enough to fight.

  


"Unfortunately, Nadeshiko became seriously ill, as it was another one of her inevitabilities, and she was on her deathbed when a former student of hers murdered her and tried to take Sakura. However, she ran, and took with her the pendant that had kept her mother safe. I myself am not sure how, but she ended up in front of my family's estate, where we took care of her for a few months, but my parents decided that in order for Sakura to fulfill her destiny, she could not stay with us. They saw that the only was she would be able to survive the responsibilities that would be laid upon her, she could not live a sheltered life and remain naive, as she should have in the original time line."

He sighed heavily there, the only pause there'd been through the entire thing. I have to say it was a good thing he did, or else I wouldn't have noticed the world coming into focus, indicating that I was losing my grip on the second dimension. You see, I don't know if I've explained this yet, but the only was I can ever tell if I'm in the second dimension or not is because in the second dimension, everything is out of focus, and slightly blurry.

  


When I noticed I was slipping back into the normal dimension, I had to think quickly to explain my presence, as my position directly in front of Eriol afforded him a very good view of me. Just as I felt the last thread of the second dimension slip from my grasp, I closed my eyes and draped myself limply over the chair I was sitting on. Upon the doctor's exclamation of surprise, I jumped slightly, and my eyes flew open, like he had startled me out of my sleep.

  


I looked around in surprise, as though I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten there, and jumped again when my eyes rested on Tomoyo and Eriol.

  


"Sakura?" Tomoyo whirled around. "What are you doing here?!"

  
  


A/N: Well, I'm sorry to say that's about it, but it is. I figured I might as well get something up after all this time. I'm really sorry if there are any mistakes; my brother is ready to fight me for the computer. So, the piece at the beginning was just the rest of last chapter's. I don't really know if it works, but . . . I'm desperate. If you have any better ideas, don't hesitate to tell me.

Anyway, please review! And I'm really, really sorry to anyone that tried to review but couldn't, because I had the 'do not accept anonymous reviews' thing on without knowing it . . . 


End file.
